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It was a quiet Saturday—well, for everyone except Dog Man, who was currently lying on a hospital stretcher, wearing a gown and hooked up to an activated charcoal IV after swallowing an entire chocolate bar. Don’t judge him! Judge the one who left the chocolate on his dining table (it was him).
Beside him was Li’l Petey, his beloved and adored kitten, who had been trying to comfort him ever since they arrived at the hospital by reading his comics or telling his recurring "knock-knock" or poop jokes. That kid was destined to shine in the world of comedy… but only in this city.
He was dying of boredom in that place—boredom and fear that another needle would come to attack him (or that they would pump his stomach again, which had been a terrible experience). Of all days, this had to happen when he had custody of his baby. But what else could he do? Who told him to be allergic to chocolate?
He turned to look at his son, who was still coloring with crayons. He observed him carefully, inspecting him, trying to recall any relevant information from his memories—an effort that turned out to be useless because he found nothing. What allergies could his beloved son have? Petey had never mentioned it… though, to be fair, he had never asked. He could accidentally poison Li’l Petey due to his ignorance at any moment!
“Is something wrong, Dad?”
He heard the kitten’s sweet voice, looking at him in confusion. He shook off his thoughts, trying to calm himself and not scare the little tabby. Right now, it didn’t matter if he worried—after all, he would get his answers once he saw Petey.
(…)
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me anything! For God's sake! Is this what you're teaching the kid, huh? That he shouldn't say anything if he gets sick or hospitalized?”
An offended orange cat’s voice echoed through the hospital hallways. With one arm, he carried Li’l Petey, and with the other, he pulled the arm of a hybrid dog, who looked dizzy from all the tugging.
He had been in his lab, like any other day, building evil robots to do non-evil things (obviously), when he received a report from 80-HD notifying him that Dog Man had been hospitalized due to intoxication.
“Dad.”
He stopped his monologue at the sound of his son’s voice. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he looked at him, waiting for him to continue.
“Yes?”
“Dog Man isn’t listening.”
His son pointed at the dog, who did, in fact, look dazed and lost.
“Pff, leave him be. He’s just still nervous from having his IV removed,” he said dismissively. The dog could be quite dramatic when it came to needles… Not that it had anything to do with Petey shaking and scolding him all over the hospital, no…
(…)
“We're back to your bed, Dog Man,” he said to the canine while helping him lie down. He looked exhausted, which made sense after spending hours getting his stomach pumped and then being put on an IV. His metabolism had done a great job, but there was no point in feeling sorry for him. Petey had explained to him dozens of times what would happen if he ate chocolate, yet his sweet but incredibly dumb dog had eaten it anyway, ignoring all his warnings. And as the saying goes, “Forewarned is forearmed.”
Although he had to admit he was surprised that this time Dog Man’s digestive and immune system had failed against chocolate. He had seen the half-dog eat everything—and when he said everything, he meant everything. But he supposed that everyone had their limits, even an infinite vacuum like that annoying mutt.
He covered the canine from head to toe, just like Dog Man sometimes did when he found Petey sleeping. He gave him a few gentle head pats, but before he could leave, he felt a hand grab his paw, stopping him.
Confused, he turned and saw a tired-looking Dog Man, his eyelids drooping with sleep, but his hands were moving as if trying to sign something.
“You need to sleep, Greg. You didn’t listen to me about the chocolate, and look what happened. Listen to me this time, please,” he said while gently holding the dog’s hands, trying to lower them.
He saw the dog hesitate about whether to use force or not until he finally gave in. He closed his eyes, letting himself fall into a deep, restorative sleep.
(…)
There was no trace of sunlight left when a police dog, wrapped in blankets and drenched in sweat, suddenly jolted awake, sitting up in bed, panting heavily. His gaze was lost in his thoughts until the silence of the room was broken by the growling of his stomach, demanding food.
With weakness and a noticeable exhaustion—something very rare to see in the hybrid—he got out of bed and headed toward the kitchen, searching for leftovers or anything edible, not expecting to find, in the dim glow of a single night lamp, a sleep-deprived tabby cat sitting at the dining table, reading and jotting down notes on sheets of paper that the dog couldn’t make out.
What was Petey doing here? And Li’l Petey? Was he still dreaming? Like those dreams where he lived with Li’l Petey and was married to Pet—
“Hey, Greg, you’re awake.”
The cat turned to look at him, setting aside his notes and taking off the glasses Dog Man had just now noticed he was wearing.
“There’s chicken soup on the stove. Sit down and wait while I heat it up and get it ready for you,” he said, with a calmness that was very rare to see in the tabby. He then stood up and walked to the kitchen to prepare the mentioned meal.
He left a very confused hybrid behind, bewildered by the homely and comfortable atmosphere. Obediently, Dog Man sat down, watching Petey move effortlessly through his kitchen, pulling out and putting away utensils as if he knew it like the back of his paw. It wasn’t the first time Petey had set foot in his kitchen, but it was the first time he was doing it just for Dog Man. Normally, he only cooked meals or breakfasts for Li’l Petey. This was a unique moment dedicated solely to the half-human hybrid.
He didn’t realize he had started dozing off again until he felt someone sit in front of him. His head, which had been hanging in sleep, jerked up as he awoke, meeting Petey’s gaze. The cat was looking at him with a soft smile—just like everything else that had happened before, it was something rare to see.
Both of them stared at each other for a good while until the cat, whose tail had started twitching from nervousness, broke the silence.
"The soup is heating up. As soon as it's ready, I'll serve it. How are you feeling?"
He watched the tabby play with his own paws. Was he nervous? His face showed genuine concern for the other, and Dog Man felt intimidated by it. Now, just as nervous as the companion sitting across from him, he began looking anywhere else.
"I'm feeling better now, but I'm still tired. It's strange."
"Well, after a stomach pump and your body working to recover from your little stunt, I'm not surprised," he said with a slightly scolding tone. "Allergies shouldn't be taken lightly, Greg."
"For example, I'm allergic to nuts, almonds, and bees. If a bee ever stings me, I could die."
Dog Man's ears perked up, and his eyes widened in fear. The dog's genuine look of concern melted the cat’s heart, and his tail started curling around the leg of the table—though no one noticed.
"I never imagined it was that serious. I'll make sure no bees ever get near you," the shorter one declared firmly.
Petey chuckled softly. He was about to say something when the dog interrupted with a small bark.
"What else are you allergic to?" he asked with the most serious and worried expression the officer had ever worn.
"Well, that's really it. Also, I can't eat raisins, and…" He trailed off, thinking for a moment. He shivered under the intense gaze of the canine in front of him. A slight blush crept onto his face, and his whiskers tingled with nerves. It wasn’t normal to see Dog Man looking so serious. Ever since they had stopped being enemies—and he would never admit that seeing Dog Man so serious and commanding was… attractive.
"Ahem, ahem." He coughed fakefully, covering his mouth and trying to hide his involuntary blush. That was a very dangerous intrusive thought. "No, nothing else." He didn’t want to show his nerves and reconnected his gaze with the dog's.
"Thank you for telling me." The dog's expression softened. They let a comfortable silence settle between them until he decided to break it again.
"Is Li’l Petey allergic to anything?" he asked with concern. The cat was confused by the question.
"I forgot to ask you before, but after what happened to me today, I’m scared that I might accidentally give him something he's allergic to… or you. That’s why I’m asking. Imagine if he were allergic to bees, and I didn’t know. If we ever saw one, I wouldn’t stop it from stinging him! Or imagine if he were allergic to…" He started rambling about various fictional scenarios in which Li’l Petey got sick. The cat in front of him was still confused.
"And that’s just one thing. I don’t know his medical history. Even if it’s not an allergy, if he got sick, I wouldn’t know what to tell the doctor." The cat couldn’t be more confused. What was this dog talking about?
"I know it might be a difficult topic, Petey, but after what happened to me today—if I hadn’t known what I was allergic to, like you said, I could have died! And I never want to put Li’l Petey in danger because of my ignorance, and…" The dog’s hands hesitated, unsure if he should continue. "I’d like to know the mother’s medical history. I know it’s not really my place, and I’m not trying to pry where I shouldn’t, but I seriously care about Li’l Petey as if he were my own son, and—"
"What?" Petey interrupted, completely flustered and utterly confused. The other stopped signing immediately, lowering his hands.
"…" They both sat in silence, one panicking and the other lost in thought. Dog Man was beyond anxious. Did I make him mad? Did I overstep?
"Well, if it’s a complicated topic, I’m sorry, Petey. I won’t bring it up again. I’ll respect your privacy, I—"
"There is no… mother, Greg." The cat didn’t know whether to laugh or get angry, but the second option won instantly when he saw the dog looking him up and down in confusion, blushing all the way to his ears.
"I see, sorry. Then…" Dog Man, as red as a strawberry, looked away, sweating as he continued, "Would that mean I should ask about the father instead?"
"I’m not a woman! There is no father, no mother! There never was anyone like that in my life!" the cat yelled, as red as his companion across the table, standing up abruptly. His paws slammed against the surface, determined to erase that idea completely. His tail swished anxiously, hitting the furniture. "Dog Man, Li’l Petey is my clone. One day, I was being an idiot, wanted to clone myself, and ended up with a kid version of me. For God's sake!"
He saw the dog flinch at his outburst, which made him determined to calm down. He wasn’t an intimidator anymore, especially not with Dog Man. Oh God. He sat back down and took a few seconds to breathe. Did Dog Man seriously think he was Li’l Petey’s biological father? Worse… did he really think he was a woman? Petey couldn't handle this anymore.
"Look, sorry. I guess at some point, I forgot that only Li’l Petey and I know about this." He rested his head on his arm, exhausted, and continued, "So much has happened… from my father, Dr. Scum, Piggy, plus my morality issues and everything else… it just slipped my mind to clarify it to you." He didn’t look back at him, just closed his eyes, trying to make sense of what he was saying. "And this is probably even weirder for you… knowing that, technically, Li’l Petey is me…"
He lifted his gaze, searching for the hybrid’s face. Dog Man—his anchor to the present. "I’d understand if this makes you uncomfortable or something. I’d totally get it if you decided to take some time away from us or—"
He shut up the moment he saw Dog Man’s face tense from trying to hide a wide, joyful smile. His eyes shone with an emotion Petey couldn’t put into words. His tail curled around his own leg this time.
"Uh… Greg…?" he called out uselessly. The dog didn’t respond; he just kept staring into the void with a remarkable sparkle in his eyes. A painfully long five seconds passed before the dog suddenly shot up, startling the tabby. He approached the cat with a smile he could no longer hide and started hugging, petting, and licking him. The seated one tried to escape all the sudden affection, but, interestingly, it didn’t feel right to push the dog away.
"Greg, if you don’t explain what’s going on, I can’t cooperate. Why are you so happy?" he asked with a whiny tone.
The affectionate dog stopped, pulled up his chair, and sat in front of Petey. Their paws touched from the closeness.
"I'm just happy. I don’t have to worry about other allergies or illnesses. Our son will be just as healthy and cute as you," he said with a loving smile, sending a wave of emotions through the orange cat. Unable to describe any of them or explain the heat on his face, he stood up, steaming.
"Shut up, Dog Man," he muttered, walking toward the kitchen, hearing the embarrassed little giggles from the dog he left in the dining room. Not sick anymore, huh?
Dog Man was left alone in the dining room, laughing nervously as he once again heard the sound of dishes and utensils moving. He was already feeling better. He figured he could help the cat, but ever since his last words to the tabby, his legs had magically lost their strength, trembling like jelly. His heart pounded as if he were about to get an injection, and his breathing quickened.
But he wasn’t entirely clueless about why this was happening. For quite some time now, he had been having thoughts about Petey—thoughts and feelings he had never experienced with anyone else. He dreamed of them showing affection to each other, imagined living with him, saw their son, and, at times, even thought of him as their biological child. It took him a while, but he knew he was hopelessly in love with the rebellious and damaged yet endearing cat with whom he shared custody of their little one.
He always ignored those feelings. He couldn’t completely hide those involuntary emotions, but he pushed them as far away as possible from his relationship with Petey because he firmly believed Petey could never like him, that he wouldn’t be interested in a man—that he would only love a woman. A beautiful and delicate girl… who was the complete opposite of Dog Man (that, and the fact that Dog Man was an abomination).
He had thought Li’l Petey still had a mother. A mother that Petey had loved or maybe still loved, who might one day come back for her son, forcing him to say goodbye. That thought had depressed him for months. Petey had never mentioned anything about it, but Dog Man often felt like he was just filling someone else’s role. So, out of respect, he had to maintain a strict boundary in his relationship with Petey, to avoid ruining it or making him uncomfortable with his wave of emotions.
But not anymore! Petey had never fallen in love with a woman, Li’l Petey had no other mother or father, and now, all those months of doubt and self-imposed uncertainty made Dog Man feel like a fool… an even bigger fool than he already was.
In a way, those small possessive dog instincts that had been buried deep in his subconscious were now at ease. Petey wasn’t interested in anyone else, which meant Dog Man could finally express his affection for the feline without feeling like he was taking someone’s place or that he would be outright rejected. Of course, he wouldn’t celebrate victory just yet, but it was progress.
“You don’t like vegetables, do you, Dog Man?” Petey asked in a deceptively sweet voice, walking into the dining room with a tray holding a steaming bowl of soup, with juicy pieces of chicken peeking out. A small plate of white rice sat beside it, along with another dish containing lime, onions, and chopped chilies as toppings for the soup. Everything looked fresh and homemade. As soon as the tabby placed the tray on the table, the canine leaned in as far as he could, his mouth watering over the meal. The warmth and aroma of the soup soothed the puppy inside him while his stomach demanded he devour it in one gulp.
“Nuh-uh.” Petey stopped him, standing beside him with a spoon in hand. “You have to eat with a spoon because the soup is still boiling hot. You’ll burn yourself.” He ordered the canine, who only licked his lips in anticipation. His eyes remained fixed on those juicy, tender chunks of chicken floating in the soup. If his eyes weren’t deceiving him, he could see even more pieces at the bottom of the bowl. He reached for the spoon quickly, but Petey pulled it away. Dog Man looked at him in confusion.
“Your body did a great job fixing the mess you got yourself into.” Petey said while dipping the spoon into the soup. The canine tilted his head, unsure of where this was going.
“You need to reward it, Greg.” He smiled mischievously as he lifted the spoon, revealing that what was inside wasn’t chicken but vegetables—broccoli, carrots, chayote, and more.
Dog Man didn’t actually have a big problem with vegetables. The real problem was that he had already gotten excited about eating chicken. A cruel deception had just stabbed him right in the heart… or rather, his stomach.
“And this is exactly what you’ll be eating for the next three days to help your stomach recover and rest.” Petey added with a final touch of cruelty, dropping the spoon back into the bowl and stepping away, leaving Dog Man with complete freedom to eat.
The hybrid, now with his ears drooping in disappointment, looked at him with puppy eyes.
“No chicken?” he signed slowly, reflecting his despair.
“No chicken,” the taller one responded firmly.
Dog Man merely lowered his head in surrender, grabbing his spoon to start mixing the rice into the soup, preparing himself to eat the meal Petey had made for him. But just before he took his first sip, he felt a soft, gentle kiss on his head.
He turned to Petey in shock. When the cat realized how quickly Dog Man had caught him, his fur turned from orange to red. He immediately looked away, coughing and muttering as he hurried up the stairs.
“Eat everything, okay?” He called out as he climbed. “I’ll be waiting upstairs so we can sleep.”
That was the last thing Dog Man heard before the flustered tabby disappeared.
The canine, still seated, took no more than two seconds to heat up even more than the boiling soup in front of him. He looked down at his food with a dopey, love-struck grin and happily began eating the meal prepared by his future boyfriend… and husband.
…Could he get Petey pregnant?
That was his last thought before he ditched the spoon and began devouring his meal.